@DONQUIXOT3, video (free for all, really)

[icanfixer]

[ let those wounds heal and come clean--to everyone, angela had told her.

well. the wounds won't heal for some time, as many as there are, but she fears they never will 'til she does the latter. but it's hard, it's difficult, and there are many more who have not even thought about it... such a possibility is ever in the back of one's mind, of disappearing as althea had done, as gregor and roland and gebura, as the young ken amada and so many more--

but no one really stops to think about it until it happens. their population has dwindled, month by month, without a word.



the background is colorful and a myriad of various crafts, not her own room at home (home, what a funny concept it is to call such here, and yet--) but at the host club of which she works. don quixote is not here to advertise her space nor is she here to show off some new craft, and everything from the oversized sweater she wears to the attempt at a bright smile despite the darkness under her eyes speaks to those even who may have met her once that something isn't quite right today. she's always a cheerful, upbeat girl to any she meets, any she passes or knows,

just not today. ]

Ahem! Kehm. Good day to thee all, new faces and old. I am Don Quixote, holder of several positions and jobs both here and in the world I hail from; it is alright if we have yet to meet, but prithee do not retire just yet! I have something I wish to speak to thee about... something that is quite important, and shall perhaps change the way thy time here is spent.

[ ... huuuuf. okay. ]

Some months ago, perhaps four hence, I found myself upon the train as if I had died -- and I can assure thee, as one who has died purposefully before, it was the same but different. With my return, I found I had gained many new memories and experiences... as if I had gone back to my world and lived it, from the very moment I had left. Those who were here still appeared and acted as they ought there, without a word about this city, this world, and... in truth--

I did not recall this city whatsoever when I was gone from it and remembered my time only once I had returned.

[ shot out, without a pause save the stumble before, and don holds the gaze of her device a moment before exhaling. ]

To those whom I lied to, I am sorry. It was not my intention to hurt thee, nor to give false hope unduly, but I did not want any to think their time here meaningless simply because one does not remember it. I am certain there must be a way that we may-- we may keep them, or to leave our mark upon the world in hopes of jogging our memories should we find ourselves in the same circumstance, just as others have left theirs with pictures, with scratches in tables and walls, and-- and so on! But... I do not know, so I only wished to be honest and frank. For it is only once we are armed with knowledge that may we be able to solve a problem, or so I am told.

[ ... and she wanted to come clean, too. for herself. it's a lot easier like this than doing it one on one, she finds, not having to worry about the other's reaction so soon, though she shrinks a little all the same. ]

I am not the only one who has experienced this coming and going, that I know for certain, but I understand if it may sound unbelievable, or that one may wish to deny it. Do what comforts thee best, but know that what I say is true -- and allow this space to be one in which we may exchange ideas to ensure that these memories of ours last beyond our time spent here.

[ and,

as tempting as it is just to close off completely and throw herself back into her work without further replies, she'll still very much be around. for better or worse. ]

Comments

[icanfixer]

[ it's a surprise, certainly, since if he came to visit it was normally to drop in on netzach, and don's moved to the beanbags since -- so she sees him upside down, the scarcest evidence of bandages beneath her sweater as she stretches, before sliding back into place with a brief moment of apprehension.

he hadn't seemed as upset as the others. but yesod is a harder read, sometimes, in his contemplation -- he takes the thoughts and he pieces through them, before ultimately coming to action. in most cases. she thinks of his confessed outburst that led to his and netzach's involvement and knows it was a pot boiling over; she is much the same way at times, and after a moment she lifts a hand in a wave. ]

I am free, if thee should like a moment of my time.

[ she won't spurn him, nor anyone else, if they want to endure her presence. ]

[wordchain]

[ He catches a glimpse of the bandages beneath Don's clothing, frowns, and enters the room proper. While he doesn't wave in return — but that isn't unusual — he does greet Don with a slight nod. Once directly in front of her and the beanbags, he comes to a stop to stand there.

Don seems hesitant, on her guard. Take care of Netzach, she'd said. Do not fret too much over me, for I will be fine.

He has failed to do the former. The latter is difficult to believe. ]

Are your injuries healing?

[ He'll begin with that. ]

[icanfixer]

They are. Not for the first time, however, do I wish that I would have rather died to speed the process up.

[ bad as is to even joke about it, much less mean it in some capacity. it would worry everyone less if she died and the only one who knew was sinclair, and she came back missing something she does not remember anyway, rather than suffer with injuries and scars that raise concern and questions.

her hands tug at her sleeves almost self-consciously, though there's certainly no way anything would show as large as it is. ]

I have been diligent in my cleaning and care, and what infection had presented itself during my trial, [ for that is a good way to describe it, ] seemed to be only a trick. I am taking steps to ensure it does not become reality, for I have found infections quite bothersome.

[ of course she's suffered them before. but see? no reason to fret. she's fine. she's okay. ]

[wordchain]

[ Knowing Don, Yesod doubts that she is anything but serious. He accepts the rest of her answer in silence, no longer scrutinizing her in her sweater with its long sleeves. She has been taking steps to address the guilt festering inside of her, at least.

That doesn't necessarily mean that there is no cause for concern anymore. She seemed convinced that no one would forgive her. ]

...And you've spoken with Netzach recently?

[ Netzach was affected by the truth, he knows, subdued upon returning home. Of course, not long after those doors and hallways, much more took place with no reprieve. ]

[icanfixer]

[ ... well. she sinks more into her beanbag and then kicks one with her foot. ]

Sit. We are spending time together, are we not? Make thyself comfortable.

[ though whether he does or not she'll still answer, playing with a sleeve. it just. makes her uneasy that he's come to her space and he's not sitting. don quixote is already a small person; his standing makes her feel smaller. ]

As recent as today. Um, the first since... that time.

[ even if

well, she'd wanted to

sooner, really, she'd wanted to-- but she hadn't, her promise to kaveh easier said than done, and that's been eating at her too, don't worry. hard to see him come in with just one usable arm and not think about how she hadn't shown due concern thanks to her own awkwardness, her own selfmade fear and guilt. it expressed itself in different ways, taking on more and leaving him with what he could more easily manage with just the one limb.

maybe it hasn't helped her own well-being, but. she is ever thinking of others. inflicting herself onto him wasn't something she could do; it was his choice to make, just as it was yesod's to make, on stepping forward first. ]

As I said. Thee needn't fret over me. I am doing well.

[ she says, looking not as well. ]

[wordchain]

[ Yesod regards the beanbag as if he hadn't noticed Don's surroundings until now, and what he sees isn't quite registering. Another moment passes. Finally, he lowers himself onto the beanbag's yielding surface, inevitably sinking deeper into it once seated. These are tied to memories as well — the rooftop gathering that Don organized months ago, his conversation with Netzach then, the beanbag chairs exchanged for Christmas and arranged at the apartment.

Yesod's gaze returns to rest on Don herself. ]

...We were not avoiding you. Netzach fell ill. Shortly after recovering, he was injured.

[ Which he imagines hasn't escaped Don's notice, much like it hasn't escaped his notice that she isn't doing well — and she won't be able to conceal it from Netzach, either. ]

Don't ask me to dismiss your current lie.

[ Suddenly, it feels like the last straw, after too many days of uncertainty and powerlessness, steps behind in the dark and forced to accept it. ]

[icanfixer]

[ fell ill, huh. because of the odd happenings in general? mere coincidence? her bad news, or something entirely unrelated? she certainly couldn't have helped -- no, that must've only weakened him further, and from there--

don't ask me to dismiss your current lie, he says, as if he normally does. don huffs a laugh, but rather than sink away or flinch she remains where she is.

she's tired. she still needs to help close if necessary. she's tired. she still has soup to make. she's tired. there's still the walk home. she's tired.

she still grins at his stern concern.

(she's tired.) ]

Prithee, do allow me just the one! It is a lie I wish to turn into a truth -- I am fine, I will be fine. May I not keep at least this for myself, Yesod? I am glad to hear that I was not being avoided, though I cannot say the same; let me give thee that honesty in trade for the lie.

[wordchain]

[ At least, despite her smile, the contrast between its shape and the telltale signs that she also hasn't been sleeping well, Don acknowledges that she isn't fine at the moment. She admits that she has felt the need to stay away.

Yesod can't relent to ignore any of it, as if it went unnoticed after all — and he is certain that he isn't alone in speaking up — but nothing has left this room yet. ]

Because you believed that your presence would hurt Netzach further, I take it.

[icanfixer]

Most certainly.

[ his ached her, after all. though it's all in her head without proper talk, without real communication -- without ensuring the air is clean between them, even if she wasn't sure he had sunk half as far into the smog as she did.

maybe he'd been fine. maybe she's just the stupid one who's worried. don's found she's quite the overthinker herself... or at least, she thinks too much over others versus her own decisions. she cares too much for them, for better and worse. ]

As we are somewhat similar, I and thou, surely... thou'rt capable of understanding. I know it is better to speak plainly, but it is ever difficult 'til the moment is upon one. [ she wishes she had tissue to tear. ] So allow this one to do so, selfishly. I am thankful that thou hath come to check on me, for it gladdens this heart of mine. I hope that despite it all, thou hath been well thyself in the wake of such horrid news and the circumstances after.

[ ... speaking plainly, she does still want to be friends, after all. and yesod has more than implied that they still as well -- but she wants to put it out there, simply. she's happy he's here. ]